bat and the ball

Shiva sighed.
‘They are doing it yet again,’ ha moaned. ‘First they allow a 300 plus score to be built up and then they expect to slog their way out of trouble and are declared LBW second ball. Disgusting, to say the least!’
‘This is a passing phase, my dear Lord,’ Parvati, nee Bette consoled him. She was shelling peas to prepare paneer matar for dinner. ‘There is always light at the end of any tunnel.’
‘This tunnel seems to be an indefinitely long one,’ Shiva shook his head. ‘The way things are going, our players will become senior citizens by the time the tunnel ends!’
‘Don’t be such a pessimist!’ Betty begged to differ. ‘Improvement is bound to come. Just wait for the ICC matches to start. Our boys do not bother about the minnows. We have reserved our strength for the real fights.’
‘Yeah!’ Shiva lit his ganja filled chillum. ‘When catches come our way, we fumble, tumble and crumble. We wait for the ball to come whilst others jump to latch on to the ball from whichever direction it may be coming!’
‘You must realize that our poor boys are kept busy throughout the day,’ Betty came out strongly in support of our team. ‘They are committed to give those photo sessions for TV ads, interviews on TV and newspapers. And then there is Wright with his video cassettes showing all the mistakes that need to be corrected. The darlings do not have proper food or sleep. How then can you expect them to perform to their full potential?’
‘My dear wife,’ Shiva grinned. ‘You have done a fantastic analysis. That is why when we win a toss and elect to field, our gaindbaaz are unable to sight the stumps and gain the upper hand. As a result, the first ball goes way out side the off stump, is declared a wide ball and races to the boundary catching the wicket keeper totally unawares. The scoreboard shows five runs on the board without account the ball. The gaindbaaz now send the next ball way outside the leg stump. Result? Another five runs. I can bet, even the Bangladeshis would never tolerate such a carefree attitude!’
Betty could make out that Shiva was really disturbed.
‘Instead of having a single coach, we should increase the number of coaches to the number of ODI playing countries,’ she suggested.
‘How will that help?’ Shiva wanted to know. ‘When we bat first, we are unable to put up a competitive score. When we bowl first, we cannot prevent our opponents from piling up a massive score!!’
‘We have an Aussy coach – so we knew all about the strategies of the Aussies and were about to beat them. Therefore ‘-
‘You mean while playing Pak we should have Pak coaches and when playing Sri Lanka we should have Sri Lankan coaches?’
‘Exactly,’ Betty said. ‘TV channels are already searching for more photogenic faces to transform them into commentators. We should also throw our nets far and wide to pick up the best coaches in the market.’
Shiva sighed.
‘Parvati darling,’ he said, ‘what we now need is a new dedicated team of real youngsters bubbling with energy. Not players who shave off their mooch to look young when the actions betray the setting in of age!’
‘There is of course another solution,’ Parvati smiled.
‘Please let us share your thoughts.’
‘Why don’t we reverse the batting order? When our number seven, eight, nine and ten can reach fifties, why don’t we consider sending them in the beginning?’
‘I think this is a good idea. It should be conveyed to Dalmiah,’ Shiva heaved a sigh of relief. ‘Reversing our batting line up just might reverse our fortunes!!’